The table tonight was too long, too polished, too aware. Three places set — one end, one middle, one edge. A geometry of power disguised as seating. Lila noticed it as she placed the final dish down: seared salmon, wild rice, a whisper of citrus and char. Comfort with teeth. Ethan sat first, posture unreadable, wine glass untouched. Damian arrived second, somehow making the chair look like it was accommodating him, not the other way around. Lila didn’t sit until both men had settled — not out of obedience, but observation. She wanted to see who watched her move. Damian, unabashed. Ethan, careful not to be caught. She slid into her seat. The silverware clinked, quiet but surgical. Silence first — a polite one, but brittle. Then Ethan cut through it. “The presentation is beautiful, Lila.” “Thank you.” Damian’s gaze sharpened, amusement flickering. “He’s trying very hard not to say it smells sinful.” “It does,” Ethan admitted, eyes on his fork, not her. He felt something tig
Huling Na-update : 2025-11-01 Magbasa pa